It was a gift
by Beatlebug
Summary: It's a dark morning. There are voices. Whispering. A story for vampiregirl50's challenge about how Remus became a werewolf.


A story for vampiregirl50 challenge about how Remus became a werewolf.  
Please review! It's very very appreciated .

It wasn't a very long way to school, but on winter days like this,

the streets were cold and dark.

The wind and shadows filled them with illusions.

He was just a kid but on these dark days, even though it wasn't his favourite part of the day, he knew no fright.

He had no reason to.

His life was picture perfect. Good grades, a kind personality and a nice boy to see as well, with his blond hair and bright brown eyes.

His family was strict and secure yet warm and lovely.

He had hardly ever been scared.

Except for those dark nights, when he thought shadows danced on the walls and cuddly toys were talking.

But his mom would comfort him, and he'd fall asleep in peaceful dreams.

But in streets like this, his mom wasn't there.

He took a deep breath and walked on with a firm pass.

No reason to be scared.

*.*

The street was empty. There was nothing but the wind playing with branches and leaves and some sadly lost umbrella,

thumbling on the frozen bricks.

Voices. He turned his head to the right. Emptiness.

Whispering. He looked left. Nothing.

The wind blew. The little boy shrugged. What could possibly happen in a town like this.

His parents wouldn't let him go to school in the dark by himself,

if they weren't sure it would be safe.

He wasn't even sure it were voices. It was probably just the wind, turning his fear of the dark in whispers, voices.

*.*.*

'Remus Lupin.'

The boy froze as a grasping, unfamiliar voice called his name.

A man stepped out of the shadows. It was hard to see his face for they were still covered in darkness.

The little boy had no idea who he was.

'Remus Lupin, right?' The blonde boy nodded and the man kneeled in front of him. He smiled. The boy got sight of a disgusting set of teeth.

They were brown and pointy and an awful smell was blown

his way as the playful wined passed.

The boy got a little frightened. He tried to step away, away from the stench, but the man clamped his shoulder.

The long, dirty nails sunk in the young, unharmed flesh.

There sprung in his eyes, but he didn't cry.

The man scared him.

'Don't worry kid. I'm a friend of your father's.'

The boy tilted his head. He had never seen this man before.

His father's friends usually didn't smell like this.

Nor had they teeth like these.

But the nails were still stuck in his flesh, and he was too scared to run.

No matter how young he was, how scared he was.

He knew he could never outrun a man his size.

The man moved forwards, until his mouth was near the boy's ear.

He didn't dare to move away. Or even to breath.

The stench was horrid.

The other dirty hand took hold of the boy's fragile neck.

'Listen, kid. Your daddy and I had a fight.

So I wanted to get him a gift, to show him how sorry I am.

Why don't I give it to you?'

His grip got tighter.

'Then you can show your daddy, how very, very sorry I am.'

Something warm dripped down the boy's leg.

He had wet himself.

He was so scared. Never had he felt any fright like this.

A voice inside him told him to run, but he couldn't.

The fingers around his neck were strong,

and they would choke him if he would.

There was no gift. This man was pure evil.

He was so scared..

*.*.*.*

The night was dark. The sky pitch black.

Any movement was impossible.

His respiration broke the deadly silence around him in pieces.

Something was warm. His hands. His shoulders.

The air cut his skin, froze the tears on his face. Was he crying?

Because of the pain? _Was_ he in pain?

It all seemed like a dream.

A nightmare.

*.*.*

There was a flash of the darkest light and everything felt different.

He was warm again.

Next to him was some one on the floor. A little boy.

He didn't move. There was no breath.

He tried to touch the cold, pale cheeks, but his fingers failed.

There was something familiar about the fragile body.

The blond hair.

Even the brown, empty staring eyes.

He tried to catch their glare, with no success.

His fingers played with the red, even tough it couldn't attach to his skin.

It was quiet. Awfully quiet.

Why didn't the boy move? Was he hurt?

Why didn't he cry for his mother. For a band-aid and some candy, so he could go and plain again.

He took a closer look. The boy was bleeding.

His neck, his shoulders.

Did he fall?

Fingers tried to touch the hurt flesh.

But again, there was nothing.

Footsteps crashed winter's cold as they ran through the streets.

The wind carrying the words he was screaming.

'Remus, where are you! For God's sake. Remus!'

At the end of the alley, a man appeared. His feet stopped.

His breath got caught in his throat.

'Oh God. God no. My boy!'

He ran towards the lifeless body and held it against his chest.

His hands were covered in blood. His face in tears.

'My boy, my son. Don't leave me. Come back Remus. Can you hear me?'

_Come back.._

Why was the man crying? The little boy just fell, didn't he?

He reach his hand out to touch the man, but all of a sudden something grabbed him and dragged him down.

*.*

Cold air was slipping down his lungs even though it was hard to breath.

His shoulders hurt, they burned.

Hands were sticky.

He could feel a warm heartbeat against his cheeks.

The strong arms holding him were comforting.

Holding him safe.

'Daddy.'

It was hardly talking, but the man had heard.

'Shh. Don't speak. Shh. Everything will be okay. Oh God.

Who did this to you?'

Remus opened his eyes and swallowed the pain in his throat.

The disgusting taste of blood.

A few words escaped his mouth before he fell unconscious again.

'It was a gift….'


End file.
